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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183047">Weighted Silences</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhyanshiva/pseuds/dhyanshiva'>dhyanshiva</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Internal Monologue, M/M, Songfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:14:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,525</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhyanshiva/pseuds/dhyanshiva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aman knows they don’t have time. It’s been snatched out of his hands. All that they need to say to one another are there, the words at the tips of their tongues but they can’t be let out. So, they settle for silence, let themselves escape in the noise and make do with putting up a façade of merriment.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Weighted Silences</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I suggest you listen to Arijit Singh's 'Khamoshiyan' whhile reading 'Weighted Silences'.</p><p>This is my take on the thoughts that run through Aman's mind between the events at the train station and Kartik's bold entry that called Shankar out on his homophobia and the pain that ensued.</p><p>As you may have realised from my previous work, I derive a lot of my inspiration for writing from songs and focus on what I observe what isn't told to the listener and viewer directly.</p><p>I hope you enjoy this piece, do leave a kudos and comment below!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Khamoshiyan aawaaz hain<br/>
Tum sunne to aao kabhi<br/>
Chhukar tumhe khill jaayengi<br/>
Ghar inko bulaao kabhi</p><p>Their fate was sealed after those words were whispered in his ear at the train station. Aman could still feel waves of pain hit him over and over, dulling as each moment passed by him in a blur. The venom and disgust in his father’s low tone felt like a drug coursing through his veins, overpowering his other sensations, numbing him. This was it. He’ll never be able to bring Kartik past the threshold of his childhood home, that’s the barrier they’ll never be able to cross. The Tripathi patriarch was going to ensure it. He was hell bent on separating them forever too. Aman’s heart broke as he tried to envision life from now on without this wonderful man by his side. All those days and nights when they believed they were invincible, untouchable. The laughs, the tears, the fights, the reconciliations. He remembers how Kartik’s touch made him come alive, when fingertips danced across his skin. He felt like a flower coming into bloom. But those moments were encased in the four walls of their home, locked away in their hearts and minds. Delhi was one thing, Allahabad another thing entirely. They won’t have the freedom to just be, in his house. And now, a future back home in their flat in Delhi was gone too.</p><p>Beqarar hain baat karne ko<br/>
Kehne do inko zaraa.</p><p>Standing here, his heart in agony  and mind spinning, Aman knows they don’t have time. It’s been snatched out of his hands. All that they need to say to one another are there, the words at the tips of their tongues but they can’t be let out. So, they settle for silence, let themselves escape in the noise and make do with putting up a façade of merriment. Aman tries to emulate Kartik’s exuberance, his antics bringing a wide smile to his face for moments before he catches his father’s stare. Then it’s gone, like water dousing a burning flame.  He can’t brush off the glare as easily as Kartik seems to. Even this last chance at happiness was being stolen from him, he couldn’t truly let go and enjoy himself, let his troubles drown in the revelry and celebration, if only temporarily. He stays as close to possible as Kartik, each touch a spark in the night sky that looms ahead. They’ve been many occasions where they’ve sat there in silence, enjoying each other’s company. They didn’t need words then and certainly don’t need them now – their eyes and bodies have a language of their own.</p><p>Khamoshiyan. teri meri khamoshiyan<br/>
Khamoshiyan. lipti hui khamoshiyan</p><p>His father finally loses it, approaching them, determination gleaming in his eyes – he was going to try and break Kartik. Aman can’t stop the expression of blatant disappointment that mapped itself across his features. After an exchange of outrageous moves, Kartik was finally pushed back, his back hitting the top step. Aman knew it was over – tears had created a light sheen over his boyfriend’s eyes. Damning everyone else to hell, he stuck out his hand and pulled Kartik up, in bold defiance of his father. The man stormed off as Kartik sorted out his dishevelled clothing. Aman gave in – here was one last hurrah, he was going to have the last word. He was doomed anyway, may as well go down without any more regrets. Grabbing a hold of Kartik, he felt the other man tense in surprise as he kissed him. Hard, without any inhibition. He heard a loud exclamation from Chaman chacha but continued regardless. They’d have to tear him and Kartik apart now. The taller man kissed him back with equal fervour, hands coming up to grip his shoulders. Aman felt something come down to cover their heads as chaos ensued. </p><p>Only then, in that, safe in that shroud did he let the tears fall. He felt Kartik’s hands come up to cup his face as they continued to kiss. Their lungs burned but they refused to break – this was it. The quivering of Kartik’s palms indicated that he too, was holding on by that final thread. Their web, intricately woven with love and memories, pain and happiness was being ripped apart. Finally, Aman broke the kiss, missing immediately the warmth that was coursing through him at the contact. He knew they were running on borrowed time – a profuse thank you to his uncle was in order. Pressing their foreheads together, they looked one another in the eye, blocking out the cacophony that raged outside their bubble – only the sound of their laboured breathing could be heard. Kartik’s eyes shone with unshed tears – Aman knew they wouldn’t fall, not now, not here. This time, Aman wouldn’t be there to soothe his pain, Kartik would be left alone once more. The ache in Aman’s chest worsened as his boyfriend brushed the tears off his cheeks with his thumbs, touch as gentle as ever. Still, there wasn’t a word spoken between them yet all that went unsaid was understood.  Kartik and he were one, completely entwined with one another, their very souls tethered together. Shankar Tripathi could meddle all he wanted; the work of God would always triumph over him. Aman shut his eyes as fear and desperation swept through him like a tidal wave for the umpteenth time. The tears had stopped, tracks dry on his cheeks – he was spent, empty, hollow. Kartik pressed a soft kiss to his hairline. A final goodbye.</p><p>His timing was impeccable. A mere second later, the blazer was pulled off them and he watched in stunned silence, immobile, as Kartik was pulled away from him. He didn’t have the strength in him to hold on anymore and then, he was gone. Perhaps forever. However, still, he ran behind the three man, hoping for one last goodbye. He heard the last of the conversation between them, the forceful plea for a verbal goodbye. Shut down once and for all, he watched as Kartik put up that wide smile once more, infusing light into his tone when his eyes were dull.</p><p>Then he was gone with Aman’s uncle, leaving him to deal with his father alone. Before he could figure out what was happening, he found himself removed from the crowd, locked in a heated debate with his parents, behind closed doors. At one point, he let a curse fly out of his mouth – that was his fury and pain, his words finally breaking free. The curse was aimed at his father’s mentality, a poison that made him feel sicker than this ‘misguided concept of love’ ever could. Perhaps more hurtful than the scathing words of his father were the gentle pleas for treatment that came from his mother. She was entirely convinced, even in the face of objective, indisputable, indiscriminating facts. That was like a punch to the gut and he knew it was  over, fuck it. Kartik’s word rang through his minds once more and he sighed in defeat – clearly the statement ‘pyaar hota hai’ wasn’t all inclusive.</p><p>Slamming the door behind him, Aman collapsed against the railing, the ledge digging into his palms as he looked out into the night sky. Surely, Kartik would’ve boarded the train by now, his uncle would’ve ensured it. </p><p>Kya uss gali mein kabhi tera jaana hua<br/>
Jahaan se zamaane ko guzre zamaana hua</p><p>The night flew by – Aman hadn’t gotten a minute’s sleep, wandering what the next day held in store. He functioned on autopilot, the others ignored him for the most part anyway.  A mere twelve hours made yesterday feel like a lifetime away.That Aman was an entirely different person. All he could think about now was how hollow he felt. Kartik infused life into him, made his heart race and blood course through his veins – he made Aman feel like a new person altogether. That Aman had left with him last night. Now, Aman Tripathi was a shell of a man. He wondered what Kartik would be doing right now. Was he wandering through the bylanes of Delhi, through the hidden alleys they’d walked through countless times on their way home from work? Or perhaps those colourful streets near the outskirts where they’d often gone when their weekends weren’t crammed with work?</p><p>Mera samay toh wahin pe hai thehra hua<br/>
Bataaun tumhe kya mere sath kya hua</p><p>Aman’s mind kept running in circles, a carousel of vibrant memories playing over and over. Each one had Kartik in them – that’s when he was happiest. He yearned to tell Kartik how much he meant to him – they knew of course, it was a given – but Aman hadn’t imagined that he would be in this situation – one where he couldn’t, no matter how he wished to. It was now more than ever that he needed Kartik’s strength and determination. Aman’s mind flashed back to the near catastrophe that occurred almost immediately after the argument – his father’s threat of suicide. It still loomed over him. The sight of his father looping the sari drape over the fan, his mother’s pleas had paralysed him. Aman had to cave in and agree to the marriage alliance with Kusum. That was that.</p><p>Khamoshiyan ek saaz hai<br/>
Tum dhun koi laao zaraa<br/>
Khamoshiyan alfaaz hain<br/>
Kabhi aa gunguna le zara<br/>
Beqarar hain baat karne ko<br/>
Kehne do inko zaraa</p><p>Khamoshiyan. teri meri khamoshiyan</p><p>Aman watched as they reached their destination, the conversations taking place around him in the vehicle a distant hum. He could, however, pick out the sound of one of his, their favourite songs playing in the distance. Instantly, he found himself transported to memory of a relatively ordinary evening – there wouldn’t be reason to remember that time specifically. Except now, everything was hitting him at once: the good, the bad, the insignificant and magnificent. They’d connected Kartik’s phone to the speaker and let a variety of songs go by, dancing their hearts out to each one. Finally, when it was time to wind down, bodies exhausted and the last song to come on was this. The one playing in the distance right now. Aman could feel the memory become tangible. He remembered looking up into Kartik’s bright eyes as he wound his arms the taller man’s neck. He smiled, feeling Kartik’s hands coming to rest against his back. They slow danced to Arijit’s soulful voice singing of weighted silences and yearning for a voice, swaying in one another’s arms. This was one of Aman’s favourite moments with Kartik – the warmth and serenity that enveloped him like a thick duvet made Kartik’s embrace feel like home. Being pulled out of the memory as the vehicle came to an abrupt halt, Aman ducked his head as he felt his chest tighten – he missed home, his Kartik. He felt alien here. The love he’d thought was unconditional now appeared to have a price tag attached – his happiness. He’d have to marry a woman in exchange for their acceptance and love. The only people who Aman felt truly loved him were Rajni – goodness knows where she’d disappeared and Kartik. His family weren’t even bothering to search for the former – it was as if she’d never existed. The second she’d decided to defy their family and support he and Kartik, she’d been written off. Kartik was gone too. Aman was alone now.</p><p>Nadiya ka paani bhi khamosh behta yahaan<br/>
Khili chandani mein chhipi lakh khamoshiyan<br/>
Baarish ki boondon ki hoti kahaan hai zubaan<br/>
Sulagte dilon mein hai khamosh uthta dhuaan</p><p>They’d returned to Allahabad late that night, after another day away and Aman got another shock – they were conducting his ‘last rites’ tomorrow. Giving his parents a blank look, he’d left the house without another word. He couldn’t bring himself to care any longer. He was lifeless as it is, what difference did this make? His family had disowned him, driven Kartik away, Rajni was gone. What remained?<br/>
Now he was sat on a ledge overlooking the river Ganga, lost in thought. A light drizzle had begun when he’d first arrived. Now, hours later with the moon and stars the only witnesses of his state, Aman was drenched. The raindrops merged with the tears running down his face. The river too, was calm, barely flowing. Mother Nature was his mirror and Aman sought comfort in it – there was someone who understood his anguish. Even if it wasn’t his own mother. His cries slowly began to die down and Aman let out a painful scream before falling back completely, looking up at the twinkling stars. Was Kartik on their balcony at home, looking up at the same sky? Aman liked to think so, that the universe still tied them to one another, no matter how far they were from one another.</p><p>Khamoshiyan aakaash hai<br/>
Tum udne toh aao zara<br/>
Khamoshiyan ehsaas hai<br/>
Tumhe mehsoos hoti hai kya</p><p>Aman had spent the night in the company of River Ganga and her presence had soothed the burning pain of his soul somewhat. Yet, with the arrival of a new day, his ‘last day’ as Aman, came a newfound dread. Yet, inexplicably, there was a spark of hope. Aman tried not to dwell on the latter – what use was it anyway? Getting to his feet, he made his way back to ‘Tripathi Nivas’ as quickly as he could. Best get this over with, then. He barely held back a snort of disbelief at his father’s proclamation – what sort of a name was ‘Chandravadhan’? Even then, Aman’s mind dwelled on his mother’s proud proclamation of a ‘normal delivery’ – what was THAT supposed to mean? Well, he didn’t feel any different than he did yesterday, he was still a man, very much in love with a man. Hence proven, it was normal, if he was the same now. He wished his parents could see the contradiction in their own statements. Perhaps it was futile. </p><p>Suddenly, Rajni burst in through the gate and with her, the sun literally broke through the clouds above. Moments later, he got another surprise. There stood Kartik, armed with a megaphone, pride flag billowing like a cape over his shoulders. His entry had disrupted the birds resting there and the image was magnificent. Aman longed to join Kartik up there and just fly away. Leave this world behind, become free to go wherever they wanted. Spread their wings and take off into the expanse of blue sky. Once more, his heart stopped soaring and plummeted. The expression on Shankar Tripathi’s face was nothing short of murderous. Kartik’s wonderful monologue had ended and he stood there, face to face with the older man. He was here to fight.</p><p>Beqarar hain baat karne ko<br/>
Kehne do inko zara</p><p>He watched in horror as Shankar hit his love over and over, the pained cries tearing Aman’s heart to shreds. At some point, he gave up, he couldn’t stand to watch, couldn’t stop it from happening – nothing. He chose the next best thing: Aman ran, hoping the fleeting glance directed at Kartik said all that he couldn’t say out loud.</p><p>Khamoshiyan, teri meri khamoshiyan</p>
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